


Must we?

by ALzzza



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Cass thinks it's adorable, Damian Wayne & Tim Drake teaming up to mess with Jason and Dick is literally my everything, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Dancing, Dysfunctional Family, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Fast Food, Fluff, Gen, Good Older Sibling Cassandra Cain, Good Sibling Tim Drake, Humor, Steph is as awesome as usual, basically just these four messing around when they should be patrolling lol, spoiler: it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22842973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALzzza/pseuds/ALzzza
Summary: “What are youdoing?”Cass doesn’t appear overly surprised to see him. Looks over, waving a hand before bringing a finger to her lips. “Shh.”Or, Cass and Dami Have Some Much Needed Bonding Time, Tim and Steph Turn Up. Everyone Teasing Everyone Relentlessly.
Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne
Comments: 11
Kudos: 174





	Must we?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I wrote this a little while ago and couldn't decide if i should post it in one of my series or not?? so I'm only just posting it lol.
> 
> It's literally just 3K+ of these dorks being dorks :)
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!! :D
> 
> Edit: I totally forgot while posting but this fic was inspired by the song 'Fire Escape' by Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness if any of you are interested! ;) <3

“What are you _doing_?”

Cass doesn’t appear overly surprised to see him. Looks over, waving a hand before bringing a finger to her lips. “ _Shh_.”

Damian rolls his eyes—unseen through his mask. Climbs in further, balancing along the beam with ease. Sits next to her. Music drifting to the high ceilings; melody moving the dancers along like little china dolls in open jewellery boxes.

Damian _humph_ s.

Opens his mouth to say something, but Cass is already reaching over. Covering his mouth without taking her eyes from the scene below.

Damian would humph _again_ if it hadn’t already lost all dramatic effect.

As it is, he pushes her hands away, nose screwing in distaste. Considers her then the dancers in turn.

Cass is curled up on one side, left leg dangling in open air. Her chin balancing on one knee. Eyes reflecting the rooms rebounding light, but only managing to catch her wonderment.

Damian considers the moving figures again. Spins and elegant pose painting long eerie shadows against the floor as they dance. Silhouettes catching in the high arch windows, then again as they pause for an audience unseen. There’s a certain calming silence that seems unfit in a room so full of _movement_.

It reminds Damian of sparring when it’s not done to _hurt_ or _teach_. Familiarity sitting in the air next to a buzz of anticipation.

It’s nice.

There’s a pause as the music changes. Someone calling out coaching, but Damian tunes it out. Thinks the room looks appealing enough to sketch even _without_ the dancers. Their leotards and shoes and _faces_ blank of the pain they must be feeling as they balance on their toes.

He thinks again, it’s the same and different as fighting. Their faces stay serene to make something beautiful, instead of as defence. _Weapon_.

That’s nice enough to sketch _too_.

Damian shifts, legs hooking around the beam as he hangs upside down.

Watches them rehearse until blood rushes to his ears and all music tampers to a hold.

Damian leaves before they do, walking back across the beam, up onto the waiting roof. Cass follows after, and when Damian moves for his grappling gun she tugs at his arm. Pulling him to the fire escape instead. “Come on.”

They land on the street below as the doors bang open. Dancers chatting happily among themselves, sound folding against the quiet night. Cass already leading them in the opposite direction.

Their footfall is quiet. Hiding easily under leftover water drops as they fall against the footpath, echoing. Puddles reflecting moonlight where the broken streetlights fail. They walk along the empty road, instead of empty rooftops, with no one there to see.

It becomes clear fairly fast that Cass isn’t leading him anywhere in particular. Rather, Damian seems to have got himself stuck _strolling_.

Who even _strolls_ anymore?

He huffs a breath, following anyway. Watches Cass skip ahead. She spins, once then twice before doing it again. Smile sitting like laughter on her lips. She gazes high and loud at everything and nothing. Like the air has given her all the jewels and music of an open jewellery box. Damian watches, trailing behind her.

The air is cool and when she looks back at him, her lips still sing with unheard mirth. She must decide his lagging unacceptable because then she’s grabbing his hand and _dragging_ him along.

Damian allows himself a sigh. Follows her movements with less enthusiasm. Cass’s hand unrelenting as she spins them both around, they land in a loose version of the Venice waltz. Silence and footsteps their melody. Damian thinks it sounds better than the piano sound.

Still, he endures both the _dancing_ and her amusement for ten admiral seconds.

On the count of eleven, he steps to trip her _instead_ of spin. Cass jumps cleanly, amusement never faltering. Moves to use their hands—still held together—against him, but Damian’s already pulling her forward and jumping away.

She spins to face him dramatically and Damian’s frown sits like laughter _too_.

There’s a moment of standstill, pulse rising and eyes locked.

Damian darts forward, feinting left. Which, he notes, not the best idea.

Cass tackles him.

Arms enclosing around him like a hug. Damian purses his lips to hide his smirk, back landing against concrete. She sits up to look at him, smiling like she sees this.

Damian scoffs, thinks it’s the _principle_ of the thing.

But when Cass sits on his legs, essential trapping him, Damian doesn’t bother moving.

Comments, half _annoyed_ , half _not_ , “That’s not how you fight.”

Cass’s eyes narrow teasingly. “That’s not how you _dance_.”

Damian hums vaguely. Standing when she offers him her hand.

“Where are we _going_?”

Cass glances back over her shoulder, strolling resumed. Turns to look at him, walking backwards. Head cocked as she thinks. Decides, “Hm _, food_.”

Damian sighs, exasperated. “You don’t know where we’re going, do you?”

Cass grins, popping her lips, “Nope!”

She turns again, marching forward, and Damian resigns himself to follow.

They end up in an area that looks mostly residential and Damian’s _pretty_ sure they’re lost.

Cass looks at him, grin in her voice, “We’re lost.”

“You don’t have to sound _happy_ about it,” Damian grumbles, arms crossed. Regards his surroundings with a sigh. “This wouldn’t have happened if we’d grappled.”

Cass hums, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Maybe.” A pause. “Now we need to get _un_ -lost.”

Damian pauses in the middle of the street, muttering, “That isn’t a word.”

“Might be.”

“It’s _not_.”

“How would you know?”

“I read the dictionary.”

“Same.”

Damian narrows his eyes at her. “I don’t believe you.”

Cass shrugs, unbothered. Considers the buildings around them, before looking at Damian and declaring, “Race you.”

Damian frowns, “Wha—?” but Cass is already running towards one of the buildings. Wastes no time in scaling the wall.

“That’s _cheating_!” and Cass laughs, Damian running after. By the time he gets to the top Cass is already there, lounging in someone’s plastic chair. She raises a high eyebrow and Damian rolls his eyes.

Huffs a breath as he studies the skyline. _I think_ — “I know where we are.”

Cass gets up smoothly, walking over. “Un-lost?”

“That’s not a word.”

“Could be.”

“It’s _not_.” Grabs her arm before she can retort. “Come on.”

Then it’s a flurry of _movement_ and _running_ and _flying_ as they make their way from roof to roof. Naturally, there’s the unspoken competition of ‘who can get to each rooftop _fastest’_.

Damian is glad to say he will be winning. _Shortly_.

Takes care not to trip in his haste, landing then running _again_. Cass is almost level with him and neither of them pauses to think as they near the roof's edge. Flinging themselves off like toy soldiers hurled across a child’s room.

Cass is grinning when she comes out ahead, landing first. A difference like that can win the competition and Damian wastes no time in grabbing a Batarang and _flinging_ it at her.

It’s poorly aimed but has her dodging, a smile still twitching her lips.

_Cass_ , at least, appreciates creativity. Unlike _some people_ Damian doesn’t care to mention.

He leaps to the next building, landing level with Cass. Would trip her if it didn’t give ample opportunity for her to _drag him down with her_.

Cass laughs, as if sensing his frustration. Or maybe just from the thrill of running along rooftops, Damian’s lips twitch in a smirk of his own.

Wind whipping and freezing as they dash. Laughter sucked up by the air, echoing rooftops back as they continue forward.

The next landing is a glorified skid. Surroundings lit in familiarity as they near the unspoken finish. Jumping down to the next rooftop, boots levelling an echoing _thud_ as he bounds the ledge. Falling for a second—

Then he’s pulling his grapple line. The ache of his arms weighing like _hot chocolate_ and the ever-present sunbeams bending through the Manor’s windows. Cool air making his throat pinch, but it feels like safety. Doesn’t bother keeping his guard up with Cassandra behind him.

He rolls to a stand at the same time Cass lands. They regard each other like cowboys in a shootout, eyes narrowed lightly.

The pause sits for several seconds, then Cass loosens her stance. “Tie?”

Damian frowns grudgingly. “Deal.”

They make their way down to the street bellow with less finesse.

Damian sighs long and drawn out when he spots _Timothy_ leaning against the wall, phone in hand. Ignores Cass when she shoots him a look that might translate to _be nice_ , might translate to _watching you try and not attack each other is adorable_.

Frankly, it’s likely _both._ Damian feels his shoulders sink at the great burden these people put him through.

Squints at Cass anyway, ignores that they’re already walking _towards_ Drake when he says, “ _Must_ we?”

Cass doesn’t even pause to consider. “ _Yes_.”

Resists the urge to dig his heels into the ground. “ _Why_.”

“Family’s important.”

Damian screws his nose. “ _Yes,_ but talking to him will negate all the hours I put into _ignoring_ him.”

Cass’s lips thin in a smile, eyes laughing. “Bonding’s good for health.”

Damian grumbles something nondescript, then, “Like jumping into an open _flame_.”

Cass raises an eyebrow. “Don’t push Tim into a fire, please.”

Damian crosses his arms, following glumly. “ _That_ would be counterproductive. Starting a fire is a _chore_.”

Cass reaches back to pat his head. Comments absently, “ _Good_. No arson.”

That’s not at _all_ what he said, but also, “It’s best to leave that to Todd _anyway_.”

Cass makes an ambiguous noise that isn’t agreement, but likewise, isn’t _disagreement_.

Damian debates pointing this out, but their arrival before Drake and his subsequent acknowledgement cuts off his chance.

He glances towards them. Murmurs, “Oh. Hey,” lowering his phone, shifting forward to greet. “What you guys up to?”

Cass shrugs, affirms like they’re not _literally standing in front of a diner_ , “Food.”

Tim hums, eyes flickering between them. Damian can’t believe _this_ is who everyone thinks is the _detective_. “Same.” He resumes leaning on the wall. “I’m waiting for Batgirl though.”

Scans his eyes around like Brown is going to appear out of _air_.

_Moron_. Damian’s rolls his eyes, movement loud enough to be an insult on its _own_.

Cass hums her amusement, pats his shoulder absently. “Don’t worry. Still _our_ bonding time.”

Damian bristles, shoulders puffing up at the mere implication. “That’s not—” Screws his lips. “I’m not _jealous_.”

Cass puts on a perfectly indefinable expression, while Drake smirks. Drawls from where he’s slouched against the wall, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna crash your date.”

Damian bares his teeth. “It’s not a _date_.”

Drake looks _more_ amused. “I dunno, you guys are getting _food_ together. Sounds _kinda_ date-y.”

Cass smiles over at him. “ _And_ the dancing.”

Damian throws his hands out, tries to mask the moan in his voice, “ _Cain_.”

Drake’s eyes widen like he’s struck _gold_ , pushing off the wall to stand. “He was _dancing_?”

“I was _not_ —”

Cass cuts him off, shifting to look at them both. Reassures with a gesture, “He’s a _very_ good dancer.”

Damian crosses his arms, huffing. Glares at Drake when he smirks. “Aww, that’s _so_ cute. Batgirl’s going _melt_ when she finds out.”

Damian doubts that very much. Glare turning _fiercer_ , because if there’s one person worse than _Timothy_ finding out, it’s _Brown_. “If you even _mention_ this to Batgirl—”

“You’ll what?” Raises an eyebrow, inquiring innocently, “ _Dance_ me to death?”

Damian growls between gritted teeth. Barely thinks before throwing out, “I’ll tell Todd you stole his favourite sweater.”

Timothy’s mouth falls open, spluttering. Cass making a little _ding_ gesture, saying as Drake straightens, “ _Point_.”

Damian scoffs, rolls his eyes to her. “Like _you're_ one to talk. You’re _worse_.”

Cass shrugs, unbothered by the call out. “Comfy.”

Tim nods absently. Still defends, “Besides, I didn’t _steal_ it. That requires _intent_. I just, happened to come into possession of it.” Adds, “I’ll give it back when he asks.”

Damian remains unimpressed. “He thinks _Grayson_ has it, and Grayson isn’t even sure if he _does_ or not because _you all steal his clothing_.”

Drake doesn’t even bother defending this time, looks amused at the idea. “Well then. Sucks for Dick.”

Damian lets the ghost of a smile trace his lips. Knows watching Todd hold a grudge over Richard is entirely too amusing.

Cass looks between them both, sighing like she’s never met _anyone_ more hopeless. “Both terrible brothers.”

They scoff at the exact same time. Attention snapping to each other, silently agreeing to pretend it never happened.

Shift back to Cass. Timothy commenting after a pause, stares at her, looking only _slightly_ accusing. “ _You_ could always tell him.”

Her eyebrows furrow thoughtful. Dismissing the idea with a quick, “Funny to watch you flail.”

It’s clear she’s talking about all of them, but Damian still cuts in, “I don’t _flail_.”

Tim snorts, agrees, “ _Yeah_. It’s more of an incredibly threatening flounder typically mistaken for _violence_.”

Damian huffs. Doesn’t get a chance to retort because Brown appears. Grinning when she sees the ensemble waiting for her, jogging over. “ _Aww_. An entire party waiting for me, how sweet.” She throws both arms around Cass and Damian, no matter it was _Tim_ she was meeting. “All my favourite people in one spot—you’ll make a girl blush.”

She wastes no time dragging them into the diner, Drake trailing beside them. Looking way too pleased as he watches Damian glumly allow the contact.

Damian’s eyes spell out his immediate death, but Tim just delivers a wide shit-eating _grin_. Damian clicking his tongue. Doesn’t know how Drake has ever fooled anyone in his _life_.

Slips Brown’s hold to sit, ends up beside her _anyway_. The air a comfortable warm, light crowding the room. Stephanie still rubs her hands together, blowing on them like it’s twenty degrees _cooler_. Though, from the flush lighting her face, it might well be.

“So!” She starts, looking across at Tim, addressing the table as a whole. “What’s happening, my animal-themed associates?”

Tim’s eyebrows tug in amusement. Says, “I’m not allowed to answer that.”

Damian glares but Steph doesn’t even _try_ to work out his meaning. Turns straight to Cass for elaboration, which she grants. “Me and Dami watched ballet.”

Steph side-eyes him, smirking, “Oh really?”

Damian doesn’t bother with more than a passing comment. Raises an unimpressed eyebrow in return. “Yes.”

Steph hums her smile. “Man, we are _really_ slacking off tonight.”

Cass makes an absent noise, while Tim shrugs. “Slow night.”

Steph snorts. “Betcha we get back to the Cave and B’s subdued an entire underground fighting ring. Or something _equally_ dramatic.”

Cass smirks. “Fools bet.”

“ _Drake’s_ kind of bet, then.”

Tim blinks dryly. “Ha _ha_ , hilarious.”

Steph grins. “Aw, c’mon. Who _doesn’t_ want to make me twenty dollars richer?”

Drake raises an eyebrow. “Is this your way of asking for twenty dollars?”

Steph scoffs. “Psh, _no_.” Shifts, shoes peaking over the table when she plants them cleanly in Drake’s lap. Tim doesn’t blink and she continues, “This is my way of gaining infinite victory over the astounding,” she pauses like she was about to say his entire name and Damian resists the urge to facepalm—or better yet, flick _her_ in the face, “ _you_ , _and_ twenty dollars.”

Tim smiles lazily. “Uh-huh.” Looks between them all. “How about I just buy you food.”

Steph’s shoulders relax into her seat. “Honestly, that sounds _way_ better.”

Tim’s amusement stays as there’s a similar sound of agreement from Cass and Damian. Addresses, “Okay, what do you want?”

Their orders ring out and Tim deposits Steph’s feet onto his seat as he stands. Walking over to the cashier, who’s too used to them showing up to be anything less than bored. Pastes on a smile that’s surprisingly genuine for the hour as Tim walks over.

The silence sits soundly as they wait. Damian staring holes into Brown’s head when she starts rapping her fingers against the table. Eyes lost in thought.

Cass shifts opposite him, curling up—back to the window, knees to her chest as he bites, “Will you _stop that_.”

Steph hums, not glancing his way. “ _No_.”

Starts rapping _louder_. Damian twisting to glare, catching her lips twitching up. “I’m not above hitting you.”

Steph drops all pretence to grin. “ _Maybe_ , but there’s no way you actually will.”

Damian heavily considers hitting her just in _spite_ —doesn’t make up his mind before Cass informs, “Can’t; rude.” Essentially distracting both of them as they look to her.

Steph’s fingers paused completely when she says, “Uh, Cass. Literally fifty percent of everything Robin _does_ is rude.”

Damian _hmm_ s. Can’t decide if he should resent that assessment or not. Doesn’t get a chance because then Steph’s looking to him, continues, “I mean, it’s _very_ cute but whatever.”

Opens his mouth to retort but Tim cuts in. Walking over. “You are quite literally the _only_ person who thinks that.” Pokes Steph’s feet, still resting on his seat—which she retracts long enough to let him _sit_. Promptly placing them in his lap again.

He huffs a breath, but otherwise doesn’t comment. Looking crowded from all sides with Cass’s legs now brushing his arm. Glances at her when she opposes, “Not true. _I_ think he’s cute.”

Tim raises an eyebrow, everyone doing a brilliant job at ignoring Damian’s entire glowering existence. “Oh yeah? Name _one_ other person that thinks the Demon being a demon is cute.”

Cass smirks, chin propped up on her knee. Eyes already gloating when she says, “ _Dick_.”

Tim scoffs like the suggestion is absurd. “No way. N doesn’t count—he’s the gross exception to so many rules it’s ridiculous. _Besides_ , using Nightwing to try and convince _anyone_ of a normal human reaction is counterproductive.”

Damian hums in loose agreement. Cass and Steph staring at Tim until he shrugs, amends, “It’s mostly a good thing.”

Steph raises an eyebrow, amused now. “ _Mostly_?”

Damian breaks in before Tim can. Says, “ _Ice-cream’s_ mostly a good thing.”

Tim nods. Picking up where Damian left off. “ _Exactly_. Ice-cream’s mostly a good thing until you’re vomiting your guts out.”

Cass cocks her head, looking to run the idea over. While Steph just considers them both for a long silent moment. “I think… you guys give the weirdest, most backwards compliments _ever_.”

Damian and Tim share a look, then Tim’s shrugging again. “What? It’s accurate.” Smirks and adds, “ _Any_ way—point is, N’s great and Robin sucks.”

Damian rolls his eyes, not overly surprised. “And to think, you were doing so well.”

Tim snorts, smirk sharpening. “Sorry, Batbrat.”

Steph leans forward on one hand. Looking between them like they’re a particularly interesting type of alien. Says again, “So. _Weird_.”

Damian huffs. Digs his elbow into her side, getting a face full of blonde hair for his trouble when Steph promptly _flicks it at him_. Draws back with a scowl, pushing her away. She gives him an entirely too pointed smile and when Damian looks back at Cass and Tim, they’re watching with barely concealed amusement.

Sadly, Damian can’t dig his elbows into _their_ sides.

Breaks off from all other interactions as the food appears, conversation lulling as everyone tears into their meal.

Damian hums, eyes narrowing between them all as he reaches for his drink. Starts to chew his straw, before noticing and _stopping_. Frowns down in annoyance.

Turns his attention back to the tables' occupants when Tim gives up sitting upright and slumps half sideways against Cass’s knees.

_Damian rolls his eyes_.

Watches Cass lean over, flicking Drake’s _ear_. He screws his nose, shaking his hair out like _that_ will help, and Cass hums her amusement. Comments, painting a spiral in the air, “Need a haircut.”

Tim pulls a neatly offended face. Brushes his hair back with one hand. “My hair’s _fine_.”

“ _Red_ ,” Steph starts, waving a fry at him. “I could _braid_ your hair right now.”

“ _Barely_.” Scoffs. “Besides, you could braid _Nightwing’s_ hair. Go bother him.”

Steph hums, head cocked as she considers. “ _Maybe_. But his isn’t as long as yours. What is it with you two and your complete inability to get a haircut for months on end _anyway_?”

Tim huffs. Holds a finger up as he announces, “Firstly, my hair’s _fine_. _Secondly_ , I’m busy.”

Damian rolls his eyes. “More like you don’t actually care enough to get it cut in the _first_ place.” Adds to Stephanie when Tim only shrugs. “And you _know_ Grayson would willingly grow his hair out whether he’s busy or not.”

Steph’s eyes narrow, humming her agreement. “True. N pulls it off though.”

Tim pulls a face. “Are you implying that I _don’t_? Because, _frankly_ , I am _offended_.”

Cass breathes a laugh. Teases, “Nightwing’s better.”

Tim makes an offended note. Throwing a single fry at Cass. It lands squarely on her nose. Cass going cross-eyed before tipping her head back and _catching_ it in her mouth. Lips stretched in a smirk when Tim snorts.

Damian mouth curls. Rolls his eyes at both. “You’re _disgraces_.”

Tim and Cass don’t even share a glance, picking up a fry each, throwing it at _Damian_. He huffs, picking one out of his hair while Steph trades an amused side-glance.

Grumbles, “How you’re allowed out into civilisation I don’t know.”

Cass snorts. Deadpans, “We’re not.”

“Yeah,” Tim grins, leaning forward on one hand. “We’ve actually got a five-mile restraining order on civilisation filed against us.”

Damian frowns unhappily. Mumbles, “That’s not how that _works_.”

Steph huffs a laugh beside him. Leans over to muse his hair as she says, “Oh you sweet child, never change, okay?”

“I’m not a _child_.” Bats her hand away, glaring at Tim when _another_ French fry is thrown at him. “Stop being _immature_.”

“Stop being _mature_.” Looks him square in the face, hand slow with note as he reaches down, grabs _another_ French fry and chucks it at Damian’s _face_.

Damian doesn’t bother moving, glare intensifying. Leans sideways, stealing _Steph’s_ French fries because he’s not actually wasting _his_. Throws a handful at Tim, and he doesn’t bother dodging either. Laughs as he picks some out of his hair.

Steph busy yelping. Shoves past him to steal a handful _back_ , but Damian catches her arm with one hand, uses the other to pick up his fries, lifting it high over his head. Steph twists to follow and Damian lets go of her wrist in favour of grabbing the _rest_ of his food, climbing over the high backs of the chair _easily_.

Hops the next table, dropping to the floor. Walks clean across the room to another, _empty_ booth.

Stares over at Steph as he places his food down with a _thud_. She glares.

“Why you little _troll_ —”

Sufficient to say, Damian finishes his food fairly fast.

**Author's Note:**

> So! I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Be sure to drop me a comment! I love hearing what you think! Plus, y'all geeking out with me about these guys adds 10+ years to my life every time, I swear. :) <3


End file.
